


UnMasked

by dailyandgaily



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Everyone ships Klance, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, Multi, Pining, Slow Burn, are you ready for this, because im not, because their superhero identities are their colors, dealing with insecurities, essentially they’re a bunch of dorks trying to save earth, including some chemistry puns, incoming plethora of dumb jokes, it's a lot of chemistry puns, okay I lied, superhero au, technically purple, there’s a lot of flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-19 06:58:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailyandgaily/pseuds/dailyandgaily
Summary: Saving the world’s hard when all Lance can think about is his next pick up line for his red sidekick, as well as annoying the hell out of both his teammates and enemies. But when their identities are revealed one by one on TV by a new rival, one who threatens to destroy team Voltron, things begin to get out of hand. To top it all off, he’s got to deal with his mullet-for-a-brain partner in AP chem. Let’s just say it’s gonna be a rough week.





	1. warning shot

**Author's Note:**

> “Queer, how I misinterpreted the designations of doom.”  
> ― Vladimir Nabokov
> 
> first off, i just wanted to thank u for clicking on this fic, i’m really excited to see where this goes and i hope you are too :)  
>  ~~i have no idea if this has been done yet but i came up with this idea at 4 a.m. with my editor a while back so~~
> 
> also, another quick thanks to those of u who came from my other fic, ur support is much appreciated <3
> 
> without further ado, enjoy!

“Oh fucking hell.” 

The team was handling a simple robbery; two gunned, masked people who had stole some special artifact from the city’s old museum and were on the run. The cops had lost them within the first half hour, leaving Voltron to clean the mess. Green, their team’s brain, had located the perps with nearby surveillance footage from a convenient apartment complex. Lance had been the closest at the time. He told the team where he was headed over his mask’s implemented comm system, ready to take them on his own.

He hadn’t expected to end up with a gun to his forehead. 

“Nyma, look at that,” the gruff voice behind the barrel of the gun spoke, amused. “We just caught ourselves one of those heroes.” 

“Blue, what’s wrong?” over his comms he heard Black ask calmly, everyone else quieting to listen. He knew each team member’s mask not only protected their faces and identities, but also distorted their voices. This way, their safety could be ensured as long as they wore them.

His superhero costume had appeared just as strangely as his powers had months ago. It had been mailed to his front door, with no sender. The others had said they had received their outfits the same way, and even Green couldn’t figure out where they came from. 

Lance scoffed. “Oh nothing, just enjoying the company of two thieves and a gun at my head. The situation’s totally under control, guys.” It would be a lie if he had said he didn’t enjoy how his mask shifted his voice. He sounded incredibly suave, no wonder the city loved him. 

“I swear to god, Rolo, just shoot him already,” groaned the second thief, her annoyed voice muffled. He watched her bring up a free hand and pull off her ski mask, her long blonde hair flowing freely in the wind. She easily strode across the roof and threw it off the top of the building. The three of them were on the top of the fifteen-story complex, the thieves waiting with a strange sense of patience for people on the run. 

“Oh my _god,_ of course Blue fucks it up.” Red’s voice had to be Lance’s favorite—he’d never admit it, but he was a bit jealous. Though it wasn’t as cool as Green’s, whose voice was mechanical and mimicked a robot’s, he still died a bit inside every time he heard it. Red’s deep toned words flowed like silk, and despite his harsh comments, he enjoyed every second of his voice. 

Lance grimaced under the mask, he could fix this. He’d been through worse—thankfully Hunk would never tell the world about that time he’d found Lance drinking beer out of his cat’s bowl at two a.m. 

He failed his literature final, okay? 

“Thanks for being so supportive, babe.” 

“Shut him up already.” The woman’s voice came through clearer now, albeit battered by the strength of tonight’s wind. In her hands was what Lance assumed to be the relic, which really was just an old leather hardcover. 

“Why a book?” Lance blurted. The words left him before he could halt himself—not like he would have shut his mouth if he had the option to, anyway. The blonde, Nyma, flipped around to glare. The aggression in her look was as palpable as the heavy wind blowing through her flowing hair. 

“A book?” Yellow’s soothing, bee-like hum of a question shot through Lance’s mask.

“Rolo!”

The other robber, still remaining masked, turned his head. Lance took his chance, thrusting his hand out and slamming the gun to his left as he stepped in the other direction. In the moment of numbing shock from Rolo, Lance tore the gun from his loose hand and tossed it to the side. It slid across the roof. 

Rolo, recovered from the smack of surprise, moved to step forward. Lance wasn’t here to fight; he was here to protect the people, not beat them up. Throwing up his hands, a palm facing each lower half of Nyma and Rolo, he took a swift breath and harnessed his ability. 

_I can do this,_ he told himself. He was new at this, and certainly not as qualified as some of the others on his team, but this was simple. He could control himself here.

Within the same second of his hands coming up, short, bright beams shot from their centers, both hitting their target. The duo’s dark shoes were encased in dangerous, spiked ice. There was no reason to freeze them completely, and satisfied with his work, he stepped back. Lance’s lips curved upwards, forming into a smug grin pointed at their horrified faces. 

“It’s all good guys,” he spoke into his comm. “They’re stuck with me, just get the cops and bring them to the roof.” With that, he brought his hand up to the side of his masked head, turning off the comms through the stretchy, blue fabric. 

“Holy shit,” Rolo muttered, looking up at Lance in slow and measured movements. “They weren’t kidding.” Behind Rolo, Nyma’s wide expression went dark. Lance strolled up to her, easily passing the man who once held Lance’s life in his hands. Outstretching his arm, he took the book from Nyma. She didn’t fight back, she laughed bitterly. 

“You open that, Blue, and your world crumbles.” 

Lance rolled his eyes, the one part of his face that could be seen, “The only time I appreciate dramatics is if I’m the one performing them. The warning’s cute, though.” He winked. 

Unlike the others, whose mask and suit each held a different design, none of them shared the reveal of his eyes. He guessed the tailor had taken into account his eyes, which at first creeped him out, as well as worried him for being exposed. However, even weeks after forming Voltron with the others, no one was able to use it against him. For once, he thanked the gods for not bestowing him exotic storm purple eyes. 

_Lance one, Keith zero. He would so suck at being a superhero._

With his free hand, Lance let his hand roam over the mauled cover. As his hand reached the corner, prepared to open the book, a booming sound rung out. In front of him, Nyma collapsed to the floor in a screech of pain. 

“Wh—“ his eyes widened and he dropped into a crouch. “Nyma? Hey, talk to me!” Another gunshot rang out, and Lance flinched. A body behind Lance crumpled, falling to the ground with a loud thump. Lance flipped around, on his feet in an instant. 

Rolo had dropped into a heap, a tall stranger looming over him. They wore a dark cloak, which was splattered in red. He had seen the color before, so many times, but his body reacted differently. He felt his hands shake, the book dropping from his hands. 

“Don’t worry,” an unhurried, mellow voice spoke from under the hood. “They’re not dead, only bleeding out.” They made a strange noise, their head tilting to the side as they stared at Lance. He saw no eyes, nor a face at all. “Might lose a limb though, if you don’t give me that book.” 

Lance couldn’t do anything, it was as if he had hit himself with his own beam of ice—completely frozen to the spot. He had dealt with dozens of horrible criminals in the short duration of his career, but he had never watched someone get shot. The thought sent chilling ripples down his spine. 

“Well, McClain?” 

His eyes shot up, his body no longer shivering. He didn’t dare move, let alone breathe. There was something about this figure, an emanated aura that paralyzed every single nerve and thought that dared to plague his mind and rendered him immobile. 

“W-what?” he choked out, his shaky voice a pathetic feat, but a feat nonetheless. 

The stranger’s footsteps forward echoed in Lance’s head, clashing against the inside of his skull. They stopped in front of him, their hidden face looking down at him, before dropping into a crouch. Lance’s feet tumbled backwards, nearly tripping off the building. 

Gloved hands left the sleeves of the cloak, reaching out and picking up the book in one swift movement. Standing once more, the figure’s attention was drawn back to Lance. “It’s been a pleasure, Lance.” 

“Blue!” Lance’s head whipped around, his unsteady gaze landing on Yellow’s robotic armor. Though his friend’s face was shielded by his metal mask, he saw the horror stiffen his posture. “My god, Blue, what _happened_?” 

Lance could only stare back at Yellow, the other three members of Voltron bursting from the roof’s door entrance, a group of police behind them. At seeing the scene before them, they all stopped in their tracks. The officers pointed their guns at him, and his mind screamed at them to drop their weapons and help the two injured. But the demand never voiced itself, lost in the buzzing of the city. Everyone was sunk in silence, a silence they all waited for Lance to break. Lance’s head was pounding, and he couldn’t seem to force the information where it was lodged in his throat.

“It…” the words seemed stuck on his tongue. 

Black spoke up, his unbelievably calm voice just making Lance panic more. His voice only took on that soothing tone when something terrible happens. “Blue… you don’t need to tell us now… just focus on breathing.” 

Lance’s gaze fell to the floor, his eyes landing on the unconscious girl before him. Liquid red began pooling out underneath her, like a child’s messily colored-in circle. Off somewhere to his right, he heard the police call for two ambulances. The city’s colorful lights surrounded him like towering gems, blurring into brightness that hurt his eyes to the point where he had to close them. He almost didn’t hear the sound of boots scuffing against the cement roof, the sound drifting closer. 

A gloved hand—a red one, unlike the stranger’s flashed past Lance’s face. A warm hand was pushing his chin up, forcing him to look away from Nyma and turning his head upwards. A blood red mask stared back, the mask tightly pressed against the curves of Red’s sharp jawline, making Lance absentmindedly wonder how it hadn’t cut through his disguise yet. Though the color was eerily similar to that of the liquid painting the floor below, that wasn’t the reason Lance’s heart sped up. 

_Considering I nearly had a heart attack a minute ago this probably isn’t a good sign. ___

__“Blue,” Red spoke low. His voice was always baritone and cool, but the surprise of flickering serious concern grounded him more than the familiar. “We’re going to help them, okay? But you need to tell us what happened. Just go slow, for me.” How Lance wished Red would say that last sentence in any other situation besides this one._ _

__The warmth from Red’s hand lingered on the skin underneath his neck, and he knew Red could feel it when Lance swallowed hard. He let his eyes flutter closed. “It…” he started, trying to reclaim his shaky voice. Clearing his throat, he took in a final deep breath and finished his long overdue input._ _

__“It _knows_ who I am.”_ _

__No one reacted; none of them understood the severity of this truth. They all just stared in confusion—except for Red. “Who knows who you are?”_ _

__“ _Red,_ ” Black chided under his breath, critical of pushing Lance too far._ _

__Yet Lance didn’t want to stop; the thought of breaking off now terrified him. He didn’t want to be stuck in that petrifying silence again, its claws lodged in his throat and preventing him from escaping the quiet._ _

__“The person who shot them,” he squeezed out, his chest heaving underneath the constricting blue fabric. “T-they took the book too—the-the relic thing… they used my _name._ ” Red didn’t move, just watched him in an uncomfortable silence. Lance’s exposed, wide eyes left Red’s protective mask, unable to look at him any longer, and glanced over at the rest of his team. “How did it know my name?” he whispered, the question lost to the wind. _ _

__Now understanding Lance wasn’t a threat, the lead cop made a hand motion, leaving the crew of police to spread out across the roof. Black was on the move instantly, scooping Nyma up in his buff arms like a limp rag doll. Lance felt sick, his stomach wanting to retch in protest. He almost missed the loss of warmth of Red’s retreating hand. Behind him, Yellow pulled Rolo up from his curled up position on the ground. Lance watched, his wide eyes narrowing at the two crumpled bodies._ _

__“What the…” he muttered, this time only his team turning to face him with questioning looks. The police were preoccupied with their scan of the roof. “I… I froze their feet? So they couldn’t move but now…”_ _

__They followed his gaze, their own growing just as confused. The ice had never been able to thaw before, Lance knew that the most of them all—he would freeze ice cubes that never melted into his sodas on a regular basis. They never melted unless put under intense heat…_ _

__He turned to Red, whose attention shifted as soon as Lance’s eyes were on him. “Why’re you looking at me? You don’t seriously think _I_ did it?” Lance frowned. _ _

__“No, you’re not stronger than me, clearly, but…” he paused, not wanting to incite the same panic he felt with his next words. “I think we might have another super on our hands… and not a good one either…”_ _

__A garbled mess of words came from the cops’ coalition of walkie talkies, stealing the attention from Lance. One of the men looked up to Black and Yellow, nodding, his voice gruff. “Ambulances are downstairs.” The two looked to each other, then, in sync, made their way to the roof’s edge. Before the policemen could react, they had stepped off the building, each of them carrying a person._ _

__There was great enjoyment from the reactions of strangers seeing their powers in action for the first time, it never got old. Half of their crew rushed to the edge, where Lance knew they would see Black walking down along the side of the building, with Yellow already on the ground, unscathed. He had to believe the two strangers would be okay, the medics could handle a bullet wound or two. He wouldn’t let himself think otherwise, it would be too much._ _

__“I’m going to hack into the roof’s cams,” Green shot in from under their hood. “Are you okay with that, Lance?”_ _

__Lance’s gaze connected with such harshness he swore he could hear the air snap at the tension. He stared at the immense darkness under that green hood that stared right back. He held his breath._ _

__“ _What?_ ” _ _

__“I asked if checking the cameras is okay with you, Blue,” Green repeated, the bemusement in their mechanical voice so thick he could actually hear it. “I’m sure the cops here want proof of your innocence, even when our existence is the only real reason this city is safe.”_ _

__Lance let out a sigh, bringing his hands up to his forehead. They hadn’t said his name—they couldn’t have, no one knew it. Or at least, only one person did, though they didn’t seem interested in broadcasting it to the world._ _

___Yet._ _ _

__He had to find out who figured out his name, and fast. For all he knew, they knew all of their identities. If the truth ever got out to the public, they’d never catch a break. Lance loved crowds possibly more than the rest of the team combined, and even this much attention would be too much._ _

__“Ah. Yeah, okay, sure.”_ _

__—_ _

__Keith’s leg was shaking under the table, a nervous tick he’d gotten when he first discovered he had powers. He wasn’t sure what triggered it, but the second he’d realized his hands had caught on fire he screamed. In retrospect, he was actually pretty lucky he was in his apartment at the time. Explaining to a crowd of people why his hands were casually on fire seemed like a contentious topic he wasn’t ready to take on. His one regret was attempting to call the fire department, and ended up singing a huge chunk of his phone._ _

___At least it still works…_ _ _

__The hardest part of his slip up was explaining to his friends how someone even begins to burn their phone. Lance, as per usual, didn’t care, instead teasing him for his screw up, where Hunk and Shiro had comforted him. The only one who doubted his cover story of dropping his phone onto the stove while cooking had been Katie. She had believed him eventually, but it took time._ _

__Keith’s head snapped up at the sound of the classroom door opening, a ginger man sporting an interesting mustache stepping into the room. He had a certain bounce to his step, unlike any other teacher Keith had before. The man stopped in front of the empty teacher’s desk, facing the classroom filled with students, and clapped his hands together._ _

__“Alrighty, everyone!” he chirped, and Keith had to force back a groan. The pros of a perky teacher faded away at being reminded how tired he was in comparison. “I’m your teacher, Mr. Smythe, but you may all call me Coran. Welcome to AP Chem,” he gave the class a huge smile that was too kind to be true._ _

__Keith had heard rumors about this class; the majority who entered never survived their way out. Last year, only two students had _passed_ his class. The only reason the two had passed was because they were paired together at the beginning of the year—one of their parents had been a chemist, and had helped them with every assignment. He had wanted to take normal chemistry, but had been coerced by his school counselor to take it. _ _

__“Those not in their seats are now late, so…” As Coran scanned the room, Keith shot a glance to the empty seat beside him. They had been assigned partners a week before their first class, and Keith was horrified the idea of being paired with Lance. He even asked to be switched, knowing how much Lance hated him, but was denied such a privilege. Indubitably, when the moment he had been dreading for days had come, Lance wasn’t there._ _

__A sigh of relief escaped his lips as the door slammed open, Keith bolting upright in his seat. The students around him had a similar reaction, all staring at the panting boy bent over in the doorway._ _

__Keith face-palmed, _Of course he needed to make a dramatic entrance.__ _

__“Sorry, teach,” Lance exclaimed, standing straight. “I had a—busy morning.”_ _

___What could he have possibly done that took more time than it did for me to help some strangers?_ Keith rolled his eyes. _Probably his oh-so-important skin care routine.__ _

__This morning Keith had been in the shower when his alarm went off. It had been a text from Shiro, telling him to get suited up as soon as possible and meet the team to stop a hostage situation at four a.m. Shiro was the only one who knew he was Red, though he hadn’t intended to tell him._ _

__He had grown up with Shiro, and though the foster system tugged Keith around the city a lot, he always stayed in the same school with Shiro. He was like a brother to Keith. So when he called over Keith to his place and showed him the outfit he wore, explaining he was Black, Keith had admitted his secret in return. He still had no idea who comprised the rest of Voltron, and with how secretive they all were, he doubted he would._ _

__The memories of last night hit him suddenly, those blue eyes staring at him, terrified and panicky._ _

__Keith glanced up, letting himself peruse Lance’s face. He had blue eyes as well, and Lance took that fact and ran with it. The boy joked about being Blue, his cockiness shining through as he went on about being a savior. His confident gaze could never be the look Keith had seen last night in Blue’s eyes. The two did share similar traits, but couldn’t be the same. Plus Blue flirted with him any chance he could get, where every word Lance spoke to him was an insult._ _

__“You’re still late, Mr. McClain,” Coran continued smiling, pointing over to the only empty chair beside Keith. “Now please take a seat.” Lance nodded, strolling over to sit down, shooting a look to Keith._ _

__“Mornin’, mullet.”_ _

__He didn’t bother gracing Lance a look, let alone a response. Though Keith knew the entire class period would just be a preamble of the course and a perusal of the syllabus, he wanted to give a good first impression. This meant _avoiding_ Lance at all costs. _ _

__Keith heard an offended noise from his side, and reluctantly turned to look at his year-long partner._ _

__“Well, fluorine uranium carbon potassium you too then,” Lance muttered, earning an eye-roll from Keith._ _

__“Please don’t tell me you spent the whole summer memorizing dumb chemistry jokes just to annoy me,” he shot back, trying to not sound as peeved as he was. Lance looked back, their gazes finally connecting as he gave Keith a self-satisfied grin._ _

__“Sodium hypobromite,” he replied, keeping his voice low. Keith tried to keep his groaning to a minimum, but this boy always managed to bring it out of him. He swore if Lance ever needed Voltron’s help, Red was finally going to treat himself and take a well-deserved day off._ _

__He had been so preoccupied with Lance’s antics he hadn’t even noticed the room go quiet until Coran spoke up. “Pardon, is my lesson interrupting your conversation?” There were a few snickers around the room, and Keith’s gut tightened._ _

___So much for a good first impression._ _ _

__To his surprise, Lance was the one to reply first. “No, sir, I apologize. It won’t happen again.” Keith watched Lance’s cutting profile, his smirk now stolen away and replaced with a faux solemn expression._ _

__Coran rose a brow, giving them one last glare before turning around to write something on the board. Keith didn’t bother wasting his time pretending to pay attention anymore, his mind wandering off as he looked around the room. There was a projector on the teacher’s desk, along with a laptop, books, and a token apple. Keith took a double-take, a little thrown off at the apple’s green coloring. There were windows to his right, windows Keith would have liked to look out of, only to be distracted by a not-so-quiet tapping._ _

__He twisted to his left in his seat, already scowling at Lance. The boy paid no mind, his sharp blue eyes looking down in his lap. Following his fixed stare with hesitance, Keith’s eyes landed on a phone encompassed in a royal blue case. His mouth to tell him off, but his jaw locked midway once he saw what Lance was scrolling through._ _

__“Is—is that a Blue fan page?” he hissed under his breath._ _

__Lance scoffed, shaking his head with a condescending flare. “Excuse you, it’s Blue’s _official_ instagram page.” Keith’s brows puckered together. _ _

__“He has an instagram?”_ _

__The boy beside him scoffed, muttering something indiscernible under his breath before moving his phone to the space between their outer thighs. He thumbed through the dozens of Blue’s selfies, some by himself and some with other masked members of Voltron. None of them were with Red—Keith’s hand jolted forward suddenly, pulling Lance’s thumb away from the screen so he stopped. Forcefully ignoring the blaring comments below that all were a variation of “#purple,” Keith saw an image of Blue with Red. He had been looking in another direction when Blue took the shot, his arm slung over Red’s shoulder. Shock enveloped his disbelieving mind at the thought of not catching Blue._ _

__“Wh—How the hell?” he murmured, catching Lance’s attention._ _

__“What?”_ _

__Keith looked up at Lance, whose head was tilted to the side in confusion. _Shit._ “Oh, uh… it’s just, I’ve heard Red isn’t a fan of pictures.” Those impressive blue eyes doubled in size, and Keith’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t given himself away, he couldn’t have. He didn’t say anything suspicious. _ _

__“ _You’re a Red fan?_ ” Lance spoke so quietly Keith nearly missed it. _ _

__“What? No,” Keith hissed. “I’m just—“ _the Red member of Voltron. I’m not as conceited as you._ He couldn’t say that, regardless of the social consequences. “I’ve heard… things.” _ _

__A little gasp escaped Lance’s parted lips, and Keith could only stare. “Oh my god… you’re so a Red fan,” he said under his breath. “And you both wear gloves!”_ _

__“Mine are fingerless, dumbass.”_ _

__Another hushed gasp. “So you knew his gloves weren’t weird and nonfunctional like yours!” Keith was prepared to retaliate when there was a buzz from the phone. The two looked down in sync, and before Keith could actually register what he was saying, Lance heaved the phone away._ _

__He watched Lance’s eyes scan his hidden screen with a burst of speed and sense of urgency that was unlike anything Keith had ever seen from him before. The light from the screen suddenly dissipated, and Lance then looked up. Instead of looking up at Keith like he expected, he looked straight at the man at the board. Lance’s hand rose in the air as he waited._ _

___He… wants to be called on?_ _ _

__It took a few minutes for Coran to notice, as his back was to the class. When he turned, other students had already begun giving Lance strange looks. Despite the questioning glances and whispering from the others, their teacher smiled and nodded._ _

__“Is something wrong, Mr. McClain?” Coran called out. The humorlessness in Lance’s expression was alarming, and Keith could feel his heart pump faster in response._ _

__“Yes, actually. Quite frankly this class period is unnecessary,” the scattered whispering grew, the shocked tones escalating. Keith couldn’t stop staring, _Holy shit, he actually has a pair._ “I’m saying we turn on that projector and connect to the news, because there’s a city emergency.” _ _

__Coran narrowed his eyes, giving the boy a dubious look. “And pray tell, what exactly is this ‘emergency’ of yours?”_ _

__“The identity of a Voltron member has been revealed.” A sudden quiet swept the room, Lance’s expression unwavering as his solid gaze stayed upon Coran. Everyone took their city’s heroes very seriously, especially when it came to their identities. They protected the city, so in return the city vowed to protect their heroes. Even those who were out to destroy Voltron were overpowered by the vast majority who wanted to keep the good._ _

__“Lance,” the teacher spoke slowly, using his first name, “if you’re lying—“_ _

__“Turn on the news,” Lance urged. “Please.”_ _

__Coran didn’t move, watching Lance carefully, as if gauging his options. Then, making his choice, their teacher moved to his desk, flipping open his laptop and connecting it to the projector. The only one who dared make their presence known was the silence, screaming and pushing itself into all spaces of the room._ _

__Noise boomed through the dead air, and projected onto the wall was a shabby image of a tall newsperson. His lengthy silver hair went so low it fell off the screen, passing his waist. He was speaking, a solemn look on his face as he showed videos and pictures of the exposed hero. Despite the vocal knowledge and proof Keith knew he had to hear, he couldn’t take in any of it. He watched lips move and pictures pass the screen, but it meant nothing._ _

__The air was no longer quiet, filled with the sound of this man’s narration, and yet was even worse now. Keith couldn’t breathe. His chest kept on pounding anyway, the blood rushing to his head and making him sway._ _

__Filling the screen were pictures of his friend, who Keith now knew to be Yellow. Side by side were images of Hunk, including video evidence of him going in and out of costume, as well as using his powers. It was all too personal, too close to home._ _

__“ _How…_ ” Lance let out beside him, and suddenly the muted sounds came crashing down on Keith. He was hearing too much, the blast of broadcasting overwhelming. The man’s voice came through this time, his words discernible to Keith’s ears. _ _

__“We received this information this morning, along with a threat,” he explained, a look of horror in his dark eyes. “If we didn’t agree to release one identity every two days, they would release our heroes’ identities all at once. They left a written message behind as well.” He was holding a note now— _When did he get that?_ —and was proceeding to read it aloud. _ _

__“I am not asking for anything from you, paladins. I do not seek money, riches, or fame in the slightest. I chose to play this game purely for my own amusement, and if you fail to seek me out by the time all your secrets have been revealed, I’ll come get you myself. Do not disappoint me. Entertain me, marionettes of Voltron, or I’ll be forced to cut your strings. And as a parting gift, tell your princess it’s her move.”_ _

__The man stopped speaking, putting down the sheet of paper and looking up at the screen. “That’s all—“ he perked up, “but if any of our heroes are watching right now, please, we are so sorry. Please, save us. I am your apologetic reporter, Lotor, on the scene—“_ _

__The screen cut off, and a slam from Coran’s desk snapped everyone’s attention to the closed laptop. The man was looking down, his ginger hair falling in front of his face. No one dared utter a word. This was not a strict glare at a student or a solemn expression, it was what crumbling from the inside looked like._ _

__Just like him, their city fell apart in a moment._ _

__Their teacher’s pale hands clenched into fists, and he slowly rose to look at his students. As if the last few seconds hadn’t transpired, Coran had built up his own walls like it was nothing, now completely unreadable._ _

__“Class dismissed. Leave.”_ _


	2. princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real quick note, if you guys are curious from the last chapter about everyone’s outfits, i have ref pictures at the end of this chapter. feel free to check them out if you’re interested
> 
> btw, right now Pidge is called Katie (for reasons explained later on), so just wanted to give u a heads up
> 
> but besides that, just wanted to thank u for reading the first chapter and i hope you like this one :)

Shock still tingled in Lance’s veins as he rushed from the classroom. 

He didn’t recall the exact moment he had grabbed Keith, but absentmindedly acknowledged his fingers around Keith’s wrist. The tips of Lance’s fingers were almost too numb from shock for him to tell. The two were now racing down the empty halls, save for a few wandering students, when Lance realized Keith was talking. 

“Hey— _Lance!_ ” Lance dropped his hold, swirling around to face Keith. The boy looked paler than usual—which was a statement in itself—and was staring at him with conflicted, wild eyes. “Where are we going?” 

Lance gave the hallway a quick skim before leaning in conspiringly. “Hunk’s smart, I’m sure he left right when he figured out it was him. I know he’d go to his house first to talk to his family and grab some stuff, so we need to…” He paused. 

_What_ do _we need to do?_

Hunk would need a place to stay low, but for how long and where? Lance wanted to offer, but he had just gotten his own room a year ago. Meaning if he invited Hunk into his home, he’d have a harder time hiding two superheroes from his family rather than one. Thankfully, Hunk—unsurprisingly along with Katie—had found out Lance was Blue just a week after they became team Voltron. 

The two had come over unannounced, arriving just minutes after Lance had come back from an easy mission. He was in the shower when Hunk and Katie came in, sitting on his bed and consequently Blue’s suit sprawled along it. He had been terrified; he hadn’t told anyone, not even his family, in fear of it being used against him. Telling someone put them in danger, and he wouldn’t risk that for bragging rights. 

Then they told him they were Yellow and Green, and Lance could breathe again. 

From that day onward, he finally had someone to talk to about the inherent strangeness of it all. While Voltron had agreed not to talk to reveal their identities to one another and only contact the other using the comms Green had implemented, Lance could talk to his friends. Katie and Hunk were in the same boat as him, and he would use that to his advantage. 

He didn’t think it could go so wrong. 

If anyone, especially reporters, discovered Hunk was staying with Lance, it could cause problems. Hunk needed to find someplace both safe and trustworthy. Hotels were a no-go, as well as staying with any friends at Garrison High. 

“Okay, okay—hey!” Lance’s gaze snapped back into focus, Keith’s concerned features capturing his attention. “Stop overthinking.” His mind dared to argue, pushing his imagination to heights, before he reclaimed himself and let out a sigh.

“I… fine. How— _what_ do you suggest?” he snapped, not meaning to sound as harsh as he did. Lance crossed his arms over his chest, a sudden exigency to be on the defense. 

Keith frowned. “First, you need to calm down,” he shot Lance a cold, meaningful look. “Hunk’s my friend too, and though I’m worried about him, we need a plan. An actual plan.” 

“Getting to Hunk before he disappears _is_ a plan,” Lance claimed. 

He rose a bushy brow, then switching out for a short, yielding nod. “Fine, but then what? You need to know how you’re going to help, otherwise you’ll just be in the way.” The unmitigated bluntness of Keith’s word stung small pinpricks against Lance’s skin, but the truth resonated in his bones. Keith was right. 

“He obviously needs a place to stay, but I don’t think my place would work…” Lance admitted under his breath. 

“Hunk can stay with me,” decided Keith, a firm kind of determination in his tone. “Until we come up with a better plan.” Logically, it probably made sense. He knew Keith lived alone, his foster parents constantly traveling across seas for work. Despite this, it didn’t ameliorate the simple difference between them; Lance had powers, and Keith was a dork with a mullet. If someone came after Hunk, Lance could protect him. 

He hesitated, “I don’t think—“ 

Keith’s dark eyes bored into his own, an aggressive plea passing from him to Lance. “We don’t have time for this,” Keith told him, his voice low. “ _Trust_ me, he’ll be safe with me.” Lance opened his mouth to retort as a pair of muttering students passed by, then broke off. The last time the halls were so deserted and hidden with whispers was before team Voltron existed to protect the city. 

“Lance,” Keith warned, reaching out to grasp the sleeve of his jacket. The unexpected warmth around his forearm brought his attention back to reality. The words left Lance abruptly. 

“I do.” 

Keith started, his eyes widening before narrowing in confusion. “What?” he muttered, taking a step back to get a fuller view of Lance. 

“I do trust you,” he expounded, giving the other boy a similar frown. “I just… I don’t trust… _other_ people.” There were too many enemies, too many uncertainties with the gain of his powers. He loved people, but there were some who became fickle and scared under pressure, and he couldn’t risk their lives or others around them. He was meant to protect. 

“O-okay, then…” baulked Keith, trailing off. He seemed taken aback by Lance’s words, and attempted to hide his surprise with a deepening frown. “Then trust me to keep Hunk safe, and let’s get to him before anyone else can. Okay?” The calm to his tone braked the rush of worries bombarding Lance, and he could breathe. 

Lance inhaled, his breath uneven but strong. Keith held a cold, competitive air around him, but this time was different. Albeit not outright comforting, Keith was not unkind. His sentiments were genuine, and he clearly wanted to help. Lance’s thoughts gathered in the fleeting eye of the storm. More relaxed now, he let out an easy exhale, and drew his fingers through his hair. Lance nodded. 

“Yeah, okay.”

—

The Garrison was completely unlike the streets. Not only was it crowded with panic, strands of people interweaving between one another, the air was colder and shrouded the city and its inhabitants with suffocating pillows of dark clouds. The communal worry was tangible, tension running rampant in the streets and scaring away from of the citizens. 

Keith followed behind Lance, but let his eyes wander. They passed a store with stacked televisions on, running the earlier news program. Few stragglers watched from the windows, staring in on the images of Yellow—Hunk—with various levels of horror and tension. 

His gaze faltered; he hadn’t known Hunk as long as Katie or Lance, but it still hit him. Hard. Not only was he a friend, he was a valued team member of Voltron. Losing Hunk, even a few days locked away, entailed major setbacks for the team. Hope quieted his worries, pressing the anxious whispers to the back of his mind. This would cause difficulties, but Keith wouldn’t let it slow them down. 

“We’re here.” Lance spoke, hushed. Those around the two of them stayed close to themselves, making Lance’s whispers unnecessary though understandable. “Come on.”

Hunk’s house was tiny but domestic and welcoming. It was sandwiched between two other homes, both significantly larger than the eggshell white, simplistic building before them. The front door was wide open. 

Lance rushed forward, Keith close behind, and entered the home. The furniture was in place, nothing upturned or not belonging. It was quieter here than the Garrison’s halls, or the darker areas of the city. It was eerie; the lack of mouth-watering aromas floating out from the kitchen and the chatter of Hunk’s family replaced by silence. 

“No one’s home?” Keith said in suspicion, looking to the only other person in the room. “Where would Hunk go next, Lance?” Blue eyes connected with Keith’s gaze, and Lance opted for a grimace rather than a response. 

“The shame is I don’t know where he’d go,” a voice spoke, and the two teens froze. “But I know where he _is._ ” Keith’s eyes flickered down to Lance’s lips in confusion, wondering if his mind was messing with him, to find them pressed together in a thin line. 

“Over here.”

Keith turned, his eyes leaving Lance to search for the voice’s owner. There was a strange accent to it, he realized, facing yet another open door. It wasn’t as strange, however, as the creature standing in the kitchen’s doorway. 

“A… cow?” said Lance, baffled. It appeared splotched—black and white—wearing an emotionless expression. 

“Very perceptive, McClain,” the voice spoke again, the cow’s mouth moving with each sarcastic word. “Now that that is established, I reckon it’s time to take you to the princess.” 

Keith blinked, his mind not yet registering the talking cow let alone the talk of a princess. “I—I’m sorry?” Keith stammered out, Lance gaping beside him. The cow then did something Keith didn’t know cows could do. It sighed. 

“Super-powered humans protecting the city don’t faze you but a talking cow does?” it shook its large head from side to side, giving the teens an irritated look. A hoof pawed at the floor, moving with slow decisiveness. “Regardless, it is time for my leave, as well as yours.”

Neither of them had the chance to react as the creature charged forward, straight into Lance. With a bowed head, its dulled horns slammed into Lance’s abdomen. Keith heard him cry out, sounding more surprised than injured. The yell brought an uncomfortable squirming in his own gut, and Keith reached out on instinct as the other boy fell back. The back of Lance’s head was rammed into a wall, and he keeled over as his attacker backed away. 

“Lance!” 

The animal turned to face Keith now, wearing the same plain look from earlier. Its dark eyes scanned Keith, tilting to the side in the process. “I really do apologize,” he told Keith. “It’s for the greater good.” 

Keith’s last memory was a large creature bolting at him.

—

Darkness swirled in Lance’s mind, shifting between consciousness and sleep. He tumbled around, hearing mumbles and whispers pass but not grasping their meaning. The one constant was the concern in each contrasting voice. He was never one to use his internal clock—if he had one, at that—so he had no idea how long he was under. 

When he did wake, it was in a blur. 

Lance’s eyes took a minute or so to focus, the bright, artificial light blinding him and forcing him to squint. It took him another minute to realize he was lying in a bed—a hazy figure at the end of his bed. His vision focused on the large frame and gasped. 

“Hunk!”

He tripped his way out of bed, his friend catching him in armored, capable hands. Hunk wore his decked disguise, which didn’t do much to hide his identity anymore. Katie, dressed up in Green’s outfit, stood beside him. 

Lance brought himself to stand, now taking notice of how twisted Hunk’s name had become on his tongue. He frowned, bringing his hands up to his lips, only to see them covered in blue, skin-tight fabric. He was Blue. 

“What…” he mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at himself. 

“Ah,” Katie piped in. Lance drew his attention to her. “About that, Black and Red are outside. As well as…” she hesitated. 

“We figured out a part of our enemy’s note,” Hunk said, changing the subject. “The p.s. part about a princess.” Lance’s frown deepened; he still didn’t understand what that had to do with how he got here. 

_How I got here._

“I dreamt up… ninja beef?” Lance asked, looking between the two, recalling the last moments before he blacked out. His eyes widened. “Wait, what happened with Keith?” His friends shared equally confused glances. 

“Ninja beef?” Hunk questioned.

“Keith?” shot Katie. 

“Oh, he’s fine,” a voice spoke off to the side of the room. “And I assure you, you couldn’t have dreamt me up.” 

Lance looked over at a familiar, horrifying chunk of muscle and meat mass standing in the doorway. “Oh _god,_ no.” A deep, unnatural chuckle sounded from the cow, and it pressed on inside. 

“Now that you are up and roaring to go,” it went on. “It’s time we gathered everyone up so I can introduce you to the princess.” 

“Who?” Lance muttered, still dazed and frankly a bit terrified. Katie responded without missing a beat. 

“That’s what I said.” 

It took serious effort and willpower to coerce Lance from the infirmary’s room, and Lance didn’t make it easy for them. The cow, who he soon learned to be Kaltenecker, led the trio to a large, marble room. A huge flatscreen took up most of one of the room’s five walls, a pile of colored beanbags shoved into one corner, and various shelves packed with bottles and cans. It was relatively plain overall.

In the center stood Red, Black, and a beautiful, tan woman wearing a lab coat. Lance couldn’t understand why she wore such unnecessary clothing when, even from his distance, she had curves to flaunt. 

Kaltenecker halted a foot or so away, turning to face Lance and his friends. “This,” he began, motioning to the woman with a flick of his head, “is your princess. She is the reason you have your abilities, you should be grateful.” 

Lance gawked. _She gave us our powers?_ his mind echoed. 

The princess laughed, a soft and elegant sound leaving her plump lips. When she spoke, her voice was interwoven between grace and a heavy British accent. “Allura’s fine—not much of a princess if I can’t protect my own subjects, hmm?” she hummed, a slight grimace breaking cracks through her smile. 

“Still,” Lance spoke up, grinning. “You have the beauty of a princess, regardless.” He dipped into a dramatic bow, and heard Red snort. Pulling himself back up, he shot a smirk Red’s way. “No need to be jealous—even if I’m the only one who ever gets the girls.” 

He couldn’t tell because of Red’s mask, but he was sure he was rolling his eyes. “Blue, you’ve never even gotten a girl to _look_ at you, let alone flirt back.” Red 

_Oh, okay, Red. You wanna play? Let’s play._

Lance turned his entire body to the annoying ass who dared to throw down the gauntlet. “Psh, I don’t need a girl. I already got a guy,” he stated with a smug confidence. Red replied without missing a beat, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You don’t have me, Blue.” The idea hit Lance in the spur of the moment, and though risky, it wasn’t enough to stop him. 

_It’s not like he’ll ever find out._

Lance scoffed, not losing his cool despite outright rejection. “Wasn’t talking about you,” he shot back. During their conversation, Red didn’t bother to turn and face him, but after Lance’s response, Red’s attention snapped to him. He wish Red hadn’t been wearing his mask; a triumphant part of him wished he could see the shocked features hiding underneath—though his sudden taut posture said it all. 

“Yeah right,” Red said, his pitch raising a tad too high. “Prove it. Show me.” 

“I am sorry, but I must interrupt,” Allura broke in, drawing in Lance’s gaze. She saved him from further lies, and he was eternally grateful. “I didn’t just kidnap you all for introductions and backstory. I initially planned to tell you all later on, but desperate times calls for desperate measures, as they say.” 

“And these desperate measures are…?” asked Black, and Lance was reminded just how much he envied the sound. 

_Why didn’t I get to sound like Batman?_

“Well,” Kaltenecker spoke from the sidelines. “We already lost the book.” Lance looked to the cow with wide eyes, who was staring right back. “That’s right, we hired Nyma and Rolo. We had hoped it’d go undetected, but…” 

“What’s so important about the book?” Katie inquired, her curiosity shining through from under her hood. “And why should we trust you? For all we know, you could be the enemy.” A gasp could be heard leaving Kaltenecker, looking more offended than the princess herself. 

Allura smiled, unfazed. “You ask good questions, Green, and if I can be frank with you,” she looked from Katie to the other four. “You have absolutely no reason to believe me, and I don’t expect you to. It’s why I wanted to reveal myself to you later on, when I could prove it, but now I do not have a choice.” 

“But why?” asked Hunk. 

“As I said, we lost the relic to our enemy,” she explained. “It contained vital information that is the reason why your identities being revealed to the public.” 

“What? Why?” 

“The book contains every human who has gained powers—both their alias and the name they were born with—as well as the specifics behind your abilities.” 

“Thank god—our zodiac signs stay secret,” Lance joked, earning flat glances from a tough crowd. What? I don’t want all my fans thinking I’m confident just because I’m a Leo, when really I just embrace that I’m hot as hell.” Red and Green groaned in sync, and Lance grinned. 

Sound burst through the room, bouncing off the walls. Lance scanned the sparse room, searching for its origin. It took seconds for his eyes to land on the makeshift radio, the voices muffled but coherent to the ear. 

“We’ve got a 10-80,” a gruff voice said. He was used to hearing it over their head coms, and it was significantly more difficult understanding the voice with interference, but he recognized the code instantly. “Code eight—I-I don’t think this happened naturally.” 

This was a fire, and by the sound of it, a big one.

It was decided early on Blue and Red would be the ones to quell fires. Separated, Lance’s ice proved inefficient, while Red’s fire fed the flames. However, when together, the two could create powerful streams of water. 

The only issue was concentration. 

If either was off their game, the ice wouldn’t melt and could sometimes prove detrimental, or the fire would overwhelm the ice and turn it to steam. 

Lance gazed over to Red, their eyes connecting violently as Lance’s grin widened. “Speaking of hot stuff…”

He couldn’t tell with the mask, but knew Red was glaring. “Blue, no. Now isn’t the time for jokes.” 

“ _Actually,_ I was going to compliment you _and_ make a pun, but you ruined it. So.” Lance retorted. Red was already walking away, huffing as he bid everyone a swift goodbye. Albeit annoying and cold towards him, Red was fun to pester. So when he chased after the red suit, he didn’t quite mind the idea of their teamwork. 

Plus, they had a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes. kaltenecker _is_ a character. i swear it wasn’t a fever dream, there _is_ a very, very ~~un~~ reasonable explanation later on.
> 
> aight, and so, as promised, here are the basic costume ideas and designs for the team.   
> also for those of u on mobile, the links didn't work so i'm just putting the entire link so u can copy and paste it. hopefully this works better? i'm sorry again for the confusion!   
> for Blue i went for a simpler skintight outfit like Samus Aran’s Zero Suit (http://static.zerochan.net/Zero.Suit.Samus.full.1943369.jpg) and a mask with Lance’s eyes revealed. ik Samus is a girl, but we both know Lance would totally rock it regardless.   
> for Red i felt like Keith would wear smth like a motorcyclist in all red leather (http://hannukarjalainen.com/image/ManInRedLeatherSuit.jpg) but without the helmet and instead a mask.  
> Green wears this dark green hood and has a thin black mask underneath to ensure her identity (http://data.techtimes.com/data/images/full/58919/green-lantern-41-cover-jpg.jpg)  
> Yellow is super decked out with a bionic suit that Hunk of course messes with and constantly augments (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/88/47/94/884794b35101c4e224b3a847f2afdf58.jpg)  
> last we got Black, who i had way too much fun with. i feel like it’d be more amusing if i just gave you the link so u can see for yourself (http://cdn5.thr.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/NFE_portrait/2011/01/black_panther_a_p.jpg)   
> this and Yellow’s are the two that are basically the exact same as the ref pictures
> 
> but yeah, thank u guys again so much for staying with me so far!  
> and please feel free to drop me a comment, i love getting feedback and knowing what you’re thinking

**Author's Note:**

> and it begins.  
> feel free to tell me what u think in the comments, i rly appreciate feedback!  
> also, i have some reference pics for each of their costumes and im planning on showing u guys in the next chap  
> thank u for reading, loves


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